The Grave Diggers
by xSummonerYunax
Summary: Tali is feeling a little insecure, but Shepard cheers her up and helps instill confidence in her sexuality. ME2, pre Tali/Shepard love scene and Suicide Mission
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This story takes place sometime before the Shepard/Tali love scene and the suicide mission in ME2. It essentially grants me liberty to play around and get creative with how Shepard and Tali may be intimate with each other prior to Tali's "herbal supplements and antibiotics" route, so some lemon-y contents will follow in Part 2.

Disclaimer: Bioware owns Mass Effect and all its characters. I simply own the pleasure of writing this story featuring my favorite Mass Effect couple, Tali and Shepard!

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**The Grave Diggers**

This place was alive. Well, of course it was alive, but I had meant that club Afterlife felt like a living, breathing entity that was as enormous as the Normandy. Though I was simply sitting at the bar, I felt as if Afterlife was moving like the stampede of krogans. Heavy club music with warlike beats pulsed through the veins of the club, sweeping countless people to the dance floor and possessing them to move their bodies in ways I had never thought possible. Women in their tight latex suits were able to sway and bend in ways I thought only the malleable metals I worked with in the engine room could, the shiny surfaces of their black suits swimming under frantic neon lights like oil through hydraulic cylinders.

The fire holograms that flared through the club walls made me hot and slightly faint, reminding me of childhood days spent inside more rudimentary engine rooms with insufficient cooling mechanisms. As uncomfortable as I was, I could not deny the fact that I had never felt as animated as I did now. Sure, I had gone through countless physical and emotional battles and helped saved the galaxy and a few colonies here and there, but I could not remember a time when I was imploding with a storm of nasty emotions to this extent. Not even the geth had evoked these foreign sensations—simply because I was not in love with them, obviously.

In my little corner, hidden behind some rambunctious attendees of Afterlife, I did what I knew best: observe, learn, and imitate, except I was having an excruciating time getting past the first step. The main blockage was fear; fear of what my people would think if I were to betray my body in any other manner besides combat and true intimacy, fear of what other lengths I may go to in order to be with one of the most highly regarded and brilliant heroes in the galaxy, and what I would have to do to afford the upkeep of his requited attention and feelings.

I tried to rationalize why my female crewmates were letting loose at this level. Was it because of our suicide mission? That was the only explanation that made sense.

Even birthday lady, Doctor Chakwas, was singing, clapping, and dancing on the opposite end of the room like a bosh'tet, rallying younger men around her to join in on the fun. It was hard to believe, but the doctor was actually the tamest out of all the female crew members. Miranda and Kelly had taken this opportunity to dress in the shortest of short skirts and the tightest of tight tops. Jack was in her usual attire, if you could even call it one. The trio formed a ring around Shepard at the center of the dance floor, each lady with her seventh drink in her hand (yes, I counted), grinding against Shepard as if he were some well-oiled machine.

I scanned the floor for the guys, but could not locate any of them except for Kenneth, who was chatting in a corner with Gabby and Samara. I smiled at the sight of the only refined women in this room. Sweet Gabby and Samara, just talking like civilized beings and drinking moderately, unlike those harlots!

Though it hurt me to see Shepard having fun with my other shipmates, I could not tear my eyes away from them. I was capable of understanding and applying the most complicated technology, but my mind could not seem to wrap around how these women were able to move in a way that defied physics. How could they shake like that, and so fast? And Keelah! Is Miranda even wearing a bra?

Shepard seemed to have been thinking the same thing as his eyes fell below Miranda's neck after he took a swig of his drink, nearly depleting his glass in one gulp. His attention was only diverted once Kelly grabbed his arm, tiptoed, and playfully licked his ear before whispering something to him, causing them both to burst into laughter. Shepard must have thought it was hilarious, because he decided to share it with Miranda and Jack, and then all four of them howled in glee, their laughter piercing through the blaring music and annoying me to the core. Who would have ever thought that Miranda and Jack would be laughing side by side? I suppose that's the effect of alcohol.

It was a bit awkward seeing my well-respected crew mates drunk and so promiscuous, but I guess this was just one of many sides to them—one that they were able to unabashedly displayed forth. I didn't want to admit it, but I was envious. I would like to believe that I too was multi-dimensional with a "wild" side, but it was difficult for me to project any of that in my suit and mask. Even now, I could hear my late father telling me in his exasperated tone, "You're a bubble child, Tali. Make sure your bubble's never in trouble." He used to say that to me all the time when I was younger, out of fear that I would do something rash and jeopardize my health.

"But I'm not a child anymore, and for once I'd like to see what it'd be like if my bubble were in trouble," I whispered sadly, a heavy weight of loss anchoring to my chest as I thought about my father's death and how much he would have hated Shepard. A tiny smile quivered on my lips as I imagined their meeting, and then the tears dribbled down my cheeks. I cried enough tears for Daddy's share too, if phantoms could weep that is.

"Oh Honey, are you sure you're up for your third glass of Frozen Pyjak?" The human bartender placed the beverage in front of me and dropped a fresh whirly straw into my drink, specifically selecting a purple one per my earlier request.

She was curvy, and though she had a lot of makeup on, her face was still pretty, really pretty. Her hair was long and roughed-up. The bartender looked strangely familiar. I stared relentlessly, determined to figure out where I had seen her. Tilting my head, I scrutinized her face like a foreign object. "Ah ha!" I exclaimed, my memories reeling back to an entertainment I had downloaded a few days ago that taught me the difference between an "ass man" and a "breast man".

She accepted my payment for the drink with a quick bow. "Hmm?"

"You could be Aurora Lexi's twin sister! She's from this human mating video I watched. You mate a lot, too?" My body quivered as I thought back to the video, the people in the act replaced by Shepard and me in my fantasies.

She looked at me as if my hands had just sprouted four more fingers, and then the corners of her mouth tugged upwards. She cracked into hysterical laughter. "Oh Sweetheart, you need a man," she declared and walked off.

"I don't _need_ a man. I already have one!" I said in between my clenched teeth and slammed my drink onto the bar top.

I thought back to the promise I had made to Shepard about researching temporary immune-boosters and antibiotic injections; they had to be much stronger than the ones I use now whenever I was exposed for suit repairs and hygiene purposes. My skin was set ablaze as I recalled the moment I had insinuated intimacy with him. I had decided to do so in a playful manner, was way too shy to be upfront about it, and somehow beyond my wildest dreams, Shepard had said he felt the same way about me.

But maybe that was only a few days ago when he didn't know he had other prospects lined up for him.

Annoyed, I sipped my drink. The liquid burned the back of my throat, a welcoming distraction from the two turians who sat across from me. I briefly caught them sneering in my direction and whispering to each other, obviously poking fun at how quarians fed themselves.

Influenced by the alcohol, I felt an adrenaline rush fire through my body, pumping my hunger for violence. But just as I was ready to get out of my seat, the room began to spin, and I was forced to squeeze my eyes shut until the nauseating twister settled. My fingers gripped desperately at the edge of the bar for support as the music boomed louder than ever, people's laughter magnifying in volume and echoing in time with my erratic heartbeats. A cold wave of fear suddenly washed over me. What if…what if they were all laughing at me? Miranda, Kelly, Jack, Shepard…what if they were talking about me, saying how stupid I look when I drink, how silly I must appear in my suit and mask in the midst of an environment that practically oozed cheap sex.

"Stop, Tali! You are being paranoid," I told myself.

I had long since stopped caring about what others thought about me and quarians in general. After all, I had already heard the worst there was to say about my kind. However, being near Shepard and falling in love with him had brought back all my insecurities tenfold, because if we were to ever truly be together in the future, it would no longer just be about me. It would be about him too—and I had seen enough relationships to realize that people viewed one partner based on the other. I would have never been exonerated of treason if it were not for Shepard's impressive profile, and oh… that edge of intimidation and aggression (that I secretly loved and was hopelessly turned on by) certainly helped.

"That is why…it is…so…frustrating…for…me…to…" I moaned pitifully into my straw. When I opened my eyes and peered into the straw's opening, I thought I could see my words literally being spelled out as they spiraled down to the bottom of my drink, where they were stabbed by my plastic trident. "Die die die—"

The music suddenly waned to dying beats, and before the next techno song stirred an even larger crowd at the dance floor, I sensed someone behind me.

I did not need to turn around for I already knew who it was, had already committed the sound of his footsteps to memory, just like I had with every one of his little nuances. I had memorized so much because I had seen so much, watched for so long, because I was good at only that—inspecting him from afar, always too afraid to initiate anything more than a lighthearted conversation. Normally I would have greeted him with a cheery quip, but I felt no drive at the moment to do so. In fact, I felt a little sick in his presence.

Shepard called my name, and then the two turians echoed back, twisting my name into sounding like something howled by an animal.

Shepard's footsteps took a turn, and I glanced up to see him walk past me and towards the two fools in the same casual manner he did when asking for directions. One of them dared to imitate my drinking, his hand pretending to wrap around an invisible straw as his lips sucked on air; he looked like a rotting, dead fish, completely unsuspecting of my commander behind him. I smirked to myself, had already anticipated that Shepard was going to pull a Shepard. The two punches aligned in time with my sip, and the sweetness of the liquor lingered on my tongue this time.

He silently observed them lying on the floor, their screams swallowed by the club's music and the throbbing cadence of the dancers. One of the turians grasped his ribcage and the other clutched his face, blood flowing from his mouth and turning his teeth blue. Shepard then returned to my side and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, steadying my swaying. I coldly shrugged his grip away and raised my drink again, but it was already gone before I could bring it towards my mouth. I swiped the air for my glass that had somehow ended up in Shepard's hand, but he instantly drained what was left before sliding the empty glass across the bar towards Lexi look-alike.

Pouting, I stretched my arms longingly across the bar and elbowed his rib hard, disconnecting his sight from the Lexi clone. "Why can't you just let me drink and be happy? Frozen Pyjake isn't cheap. You owe me credits for that," I managed to say in between newly emerging hiccups. "AND a whirly straw. Purple whirly straw, must be purple."

Shepard turned away from the bartender and leaned against the countertop with a rare and goofy smile uncharacteristically stitched across his face. "Well hello to you, too. I was looking for you. What are you doing, hiding all the way back here?"

I rolled my eyes, my anger steadily bubbling. I really wanted to tell him that he probably would have found me a lot sooner if he hadn't been staring at Miranda's chest, but I didn't want to sound like a catty bitch so I swallowed the poison and let it fester in my gut—and it burned so badly. "Look harder next time."

He frowned and crossed his arms. "Are you upset about something?"

"Oh no, not at all. Why would I be?" I asked innocently, sarcasm dripping with every syllable.

Shepard shrugged. "No reason. My mistake then. Anyway, I was hoping to dance with you."

I snarled under my breath, annoyed that he had dismissed the topic so casually.

He leaned in so close to me that his face was just breaths away from my mask. I desperately wanted to inhale his scent so I could fulfill my curiosity of what he smelled like. In my fantasies, he bore the fragrance of motor oil, sweat, and gentle sea breeze.

"Oh?" I glared at him expectantly.

"Yeah, I haven't really seen you around since we last talked about your…uh…research options. How's that coming along, by the way?" As slight as the hopefulness in his inflection was, I did not miss it.

The reason that he hadn't seen me around was because I had spent every available moment researching herbal supplements and antibiotics when I wasn't working in the engine room. I had come up with a decent list of options and carefully gone over it with Doctor Chakwas, who had been very patient with me. I suddenly felt bad for calling her a bosh'tet and decided I would help her install a new medical program to clear my conscience.

"Non-existent," I lied in an effort to guard my hurt feelings.

"Oh. That's too bad…"

I hoped he wasn't as disappointed as he looked. I immediately regretted my answer when silence filled the air between us, suffocating and uncomfortable, lingering like smog. Not wanting to risk losing his attention, I had no choice but to push aside my fear. Taking a deep breath and letting sheer faith allay my nausea, I motioned for Shepard to follow me to the dance floor.

As I got closer and closer to the center, I felt like I was entering a warzone. My hand reflexively reached for my gun. Tracing its existence with my fingertips and appreciating its powerful presence lent me the strength to push forward. I felt no different than approaching a battlefield. I was entering unknown territory, flanked by the proximity of threats. The only difference was that the damages dealt here would hurt more than flesh wound, and there was no place to hide for cover against the assault.

The lights seem to penetrate the glass of my mask, and I suddenly felt like I was losing my focus on sight and hearing. Standing at the heart of the music, I heard gunfire in place of violent pulses, fueling my adrenaline surge and scattering an unnatural course of energy throughout my body. Without thinking too much, I began to move a little. My feet lurched back and forth experimentally. Not knowing what to do with my hands, I quickly found the nearest target in sight and began to mimic her motion of throwing her arms in the air. I was vaguely aware that I was now jumping on my toes and waving my hands as if I were welcoming back my baby girl, Chikktika vas Paus.

I had no idea what I looked like dancing and could only hope that I appeared half as sexy as my female crewmates. I forced myself to think 'sexy' and hoped that added to the effect. The lights overhead dimmed, submerging me into the shadows, where I felt immensely more comfortable. The darkness had always been a second home to me, and navigating it on the dance floor was no different than navigating it anywhere else. My survival reflexes kicked in, swaying me to the right with a fluid sweep of my leg, and then a dodge to the left, jab, hook, twist kick–

-bumping into a sleazy old human, who whistled as he caught my waist and pulled me against his toothpick frame.

My fist shot out to punch his face but only ended up slicing air. I turned around and found that Shepard already had the man's neck wrapped in a vise-like grip. His fingers around my waist fell away like a lifeless rope, all focus fixating on oxygen supply.

"Hey, is there a problem? If you don't want any trouble, I suggest you find another dance partner." Shepard dropped the man on the ground, scornfully eyeing the offender gasping for breath as he scurried off like the rodent he was.

I too was hungry for air. Shepard's sexy, mischievous grin was far blinding than any light in the room. Unfortunately, I wasn't the only one who noticed. Shepard always had a habit of making a scene, except this time I was the focal point of it. A few women around us stopped what they were doing to get a closer look at him, giggling to each other and swooning over this dashing stranger who had just defended my honor.

Then I saw the dirty and disapproving looks they gave me, and my heart swelled with a dull and infectious throb of pain, the kind of festering agony that burrowed itself into the deepest recess of your mind, slowly debilitating your psyche and common sense. Keelah, why couldn't he also punch out those stupid faces?

Realizing that I hadn't moved in my spot, Shepard reached out to lightly touch my arm. I flinched as if I had just been burned.

"Hey, what's the matter?" he asked, stepping closer to me and completely oblivious to the staring around us.

The lights then beamed down hard, sweeping away the darkness with its neon cyclones and stirring a wave of nausea that I tried to swallow away. My feet felt extremely heavy, like they were cemented to the ground. The room started to spin again, only this time it was much faster than before. Everyone's faces blurred together and their voices became one. It was a scary sight and sound. I was quickly regretting every drop of alcohol that entered my system when my body quaked violently as I fought down my vomit.

I felt someone roughly grab my hands before I fell backwards. Even though I was on the verge of passing out, I knew it was Shepherd from the way his thumb applied extra pressure against my pulse. I wanted to warn him to get away but was too afraid that I would just eject everything in my stomach if I opened my mouth to speak. Instead, I bit down on my lower lip and tried to nudge him away with my shoulder, which only caused me to lose my balance. I fell forward into his arms and let out a startled yelp. In that moment, I lost all control of suppressing my gag, and for the first time I was glad I was confined in my suit and mask.

The last thing I saw was a gush of dissolved nutrient paste splattered over the glass of my mask, nothing past that. I was glad I could not see Shepard's face because I didn't think I would be able to forget his look of disgust. My last thought before I phased out was that I was glad Shepard had knocked out those two idiot turians at the bar and chased away the last scum, for it meant three fewer people witnessing Tali vas No-Ship-Should-Take-Her making a fool of herself.

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A/N: More to follow! Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

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When I regained consciousness, I was alarmed to find that I was lying on a foreign bed. Panic shot through me and I was fully awake, only to recognize the familiar lullaby of the Normandy, the ship's beautiful humming that I fell slept to every night. I relaxed at that knowledge and sank into the hard mattress again, groaning as each fragmented memory came back to me to form a nightmare that would haunt my waking moments. My head was not hurting as badly as I had thought it would, but maybe that was because I was more distracted by the foul smell in my mask. My internal filters had cleansed most of my vomit but the glass was still dirty. It would take some more time before the filters eradicated every bit of the stains.

So relieved that I was now home, I did not even question where I was exactly in the ship. It took me a few moments to realize that I was inside Shepard's cabin. I recognized the various ship models he had purchased that were now on proud display, and the exotic fish in his tank. I had personally thought he was wasting credits, but I could see now that the items filled his room with a sweet charm.

As I got out of bed and walked towards the mesmerizing aquarium, I instinctively wrapped my arms around myself even though I was not cold. The cabin was not exceptionally big, but I felt tiny and lost and completely unsure of what to do. I could always show myself the exit and go back to the engine room, but deep down I knew I wanted to stay, hoping to see Shepard. As humiliated as I was, I was craving his presence now more than ever, all the while thinking about how I was going to face him after I had horribly disgraced myself.

I wasn't sure how long I had to wait. Maybe he went back the party, back to the other women. That thought angered me at first, and then my heart burned, as if it had fallen into a pool of acid. Maybe I had been wrong all along to think that we could actually work out. I did not want to settle on that thought, so I tried to find something in the room to distract myself—and oh! What a cute hamster!

Just then the door slid open, and there he was, my handsome commander standing at the doorframe, stealing away my breath and reason. I briefly considered running past him so I could toss myself out of the airlock to make things easier for the both of us. As if reading my mind, the door behind him shut before that idea could be brought to fruition.

"Hey," I whispered, avoiding eye contact.

"Hey yourself," he said with a burst of energy that I had not expected.

My heart was a minefield, explosions of anxiety and terror firing away at unpredictable intervals. "I…um…I like your fish. They sure look healthy," I replied lamely, spitting out the first useless thing that came to mind just to fill the silence.

Shepard chuckled. "Thanks. They're only alive because Kelly remembers to feed them."

"Oh…" I said glumly, a poor attempt at concealing my disappointment. I suddenly wanted to tell him that I'd feed his hamster.

As I approached the stairs, Shepard sidestepped towards his computer terminal, pretending to organize some random items on his desk, but I knew that was a ruse to hide something he didn't want in the open. He swiftly grabbed a photo frame off his desk and tucked it underneath some data pads before putting them away in his drawer.

"Don't worry about that. I got that handled," he said quickly and then jogged towards me, turning me away from his desk and immediately changing topics thereafter. He obviously did not want to be questioned about the photo, so I did not press. It was none of my business anyway. "So, how are you feeling? I think we can both agree that you had too much to drink back there."

"Um…yeah, about that…I…well, um you see…I'm, I'm…really sorry." I hoped that Shepard had not noticed my voice cracking. I turned my head away and stared at the floor when I realized Shepard was looking directly at the remnants of my vomit. Just as I was about excuse myself, he caught both my wrists with his hands and held them gently, his thumbs as always pressed at the pulses even though he could not feel their rhythm through my suit.

"Tali."

I sniffled, tears dangerously breaking against the surface tension that strained to contain them. Nevertheless, my eyes continued to water, if not from humiliation then from the smell in my mask. Though the stench had faded somewhat, it met my nose powerfully when my last memory, before I had passed out from intoxication, returned.

"So sorry for grossing you out," I mumbled, my shoulders collapsing as if the weight of the galaxy had just been thrust upon them.

Shepard sighed with exaggerated exasperation. "I don't care about that, Tali. I just want to make sure you're okay now. I wanted to help you, clean you up and all, but I didn't know what would happen if you were exposed. And plus, I'm still not sure if you want me to see your face. So I'm the one who's sorry, for leaving you in that condition. Do you want to go take care of it now?"

My head shook on its own accord, speaking out in place of my delayed admission. I did not want to leave his side. I thought for sure Shepard was going to be disgusted, but instead, he lifted my chin and grinned broadly. "Well, since you dropped out of the party early, we can always finish it up here."

Before I could ask him what he meant, he walked over to his sound system and surfed through various channels till he found the one he was looking for, which happened to play music that sounded distinctly like notes in club Afterlife. He then moved to dim the lights. The room was now comfortably dark as space with a pretty halo emitting from the aquarium. There was no Miranda, no Kelly and Jack. Just me, Shepard, his fish, and hamster. This was more like my crowd.

"By the way…where are the others?"

"They're back on the ship, passed out as well. You don't have to worry. I doubt they will remember anything by morning, especially Doctor Chakwas," he said, already noting my concern. "They're all safe now. I had some of the guys bring them back," he added as an afterthought. Whether or not the last part was said to intentionally dispel my insecurities, it certainly made me feel better.

"Samara, Gabby, and Kenneth?" I asked.

"I don't know if they were paying attention, but you can always explain yourself to Gabby and Kenneth. And you know Samara would never be disrespectful."

I nodded, relieved that things were going to turn out better than I had thought. I still had one more question though, and it was more for my own curiosity than anything else. I held my breath for some time and then released it slowly, along with my pride. "Hey Shepard, umm…how did I look dancing? Tell me the truth."

The question clearly caught him off guard, and I could tell from the way his eyes wandered around the room that he was searching for an appropriate answer, one that was perhaps not going to sound too offensive "Uh…well, you looked funny but cute I guess?"

I frowned, not exactly liking those two adjectives. Those weren't words you would use to describe 'good' dancing.

"You were moving so fast, it was kinda hilarious. Looked like you were having a seizure to be honest," he continued, chuckling so hard now that he had to close his eyes.

"Ohh…" It was stupid of me to think that I even stood a chance. I could never dress any other way without possibly risking death, and now I found out that if I were dancing at anywhere but a club, I would be mistaken for needing medical attention.

Shepard finally stopped laughing when he saw that I had not joined in on his mirth, my hands on my hips. He craned his neck and gave me a look that asked what was wrong.

"Not exactly what I had wanted to hear," I admitted.

Confusion replaced amusement. "But you said to be honest. And besides, you were drunk. Don't worry about it."

I remained quiet for some time and simply stood unmoving, my body growing sweaty as the heat from shame scorched me.

Shepard playfully knocked against my visor. "Hello? Is there anyone in there?"

I recognized that this whole situation was already silly enough. The last thing I wanted was for Shepard to know that I was actually upset over something so infantile. But still, this was how I felt, and I couldn't just pretend that I wasn't affected when I was.

"Did you not notice everyone staring when you came to dance with me? And now I know why…I looked so stupid," I confessed, my voice impossibly tiny and fragile that it sounded foreign even to my own ears.

Shepard opened his mouth wordlessly, and then he wore a look of remorse that I rarely saw. Perhaps he was starting to understand the underlying problem of our relationship—could we really work out all that set us apart? The incident at the club was nothing compared to greater obstacles that a human-quarian couple would have to inevitably face. I grew increasingly anxious at his expression, but then his smile broke out like a morning glow— consoling and serene, speaking to me in a way that did far more justice than words ever could. "Yeah, I did notice but I don't care. I don't want something artificial, and you're as genuine as they come, if you continue to be yourself." He stepped forward to close in on the distance between us, palms open, waiting for mine to fall into them. "In the wise words of Oscar Wilde, a late poet from Earth—just be yourself, everybody else is already taken."

I placed my hands against his and he pulled me into him with great gentleness. It was incredible how a few words could change someone's mood so suddenly. In just a matter of moments, I felt drawn to Shepard in a way I had never before, in a way I could not explain because I couldn't even fully fathom the depth of the connection myself right now. I just knew that the most I had ever grown was always in his presence, and I wanted that to continue till the absolute end.

Caged in his embrace, I felt safe and content, sheltered within a cocoon from everything dangerous and unkind. And then the metamorphosis—when he released me from his protection, I felt stronger, rejuvenated, and eager to fly and test new limits. This sensation made me think back to some poems about butterflies that I had read when I was younger. Butterflies had become a growing obsession of mine ever since my father presented me with an extremely rare and mutated Red Admiral in a jar hooked to a small machine on my seventh birthday. It was one of few butterflies that was able to exist outside of Earth with the aid of a life support device. He had told me I reminded him very much so of the Red Admiral, and passionately promised me that one day Rannoch will be populated insect life. It gave me one more thing to fight for as a child.

Tali vas Normandy, Admiral, explorer of new heights and crafter of new legacies. Yeah, I liked that, and I was going to try my damn best to live up to that name.

A pointed prickle ran down my spine when Shepard placed his lips next to my ear and whispered, "We still have this great music. Now, are we gonna dance or are we just gonna keep talking?"

"Maybe you can teach me some moves," I said coyly, letting my newfound confidence spark life into those words.

"All right. I'm gonna show you my two signature moves. Watch closely. This one is called the shopping cart." He made two fists and began to push them back and forth to his left and then to his right, his knees simultaneously jerking wildly—all the while explaining to me what a shopping cart was and what it was used for back on Earth. "And then this—" Shepard then appeared to be imitating digging, an invisible shovel in his hand before it plunged into invisible earth and then over his shoulder. "—is the Grave Digger."

He moved without reservation, his dancing quite uneasy on the eyes, but he didn't seem to care one bit. His palms flew out at me, gesturing me to glide with him, and like his polar opposite, I was drawn into the pull of his magnetizing lure. Shepard's energy was infectious, enveloping me as I raced to catch up to his speed. We laughed at each other, completely aware of how absurd we looked as we pushed shopping carts and dug graves with a carefree spirit that had been lost in the midst of suicide mission talks. My giggles reverberated in my mask, and I had forgotten that the stench and stains still remained. I reminded myself that if Shepard didn't care, I certainly shouldn't have any qualms.

We boogied away time, concerns, dangers, and the uncertainty of life, conscious only of the blissful memory we were effortlessly creating, quite possibly the most precious parting gift from life that we would take with us to our graves that we were metaphorically digging with our dancing. I found that the less I anchored myself to my fears, the more my body naturally became synchronized to the turbulent vibrations of the music. I was beginning to sense control and fluidity in my movements.

At some point amidst all the fun I was having, the music grew softer and more sensual, the beats falling rhythmically like soft rainfall. I closed my eyes, stretching and twisting my limbs and the curves of my waist and hips, welcoming and soaking in the rain of the tender notes. When my eyes opened, the pulsing halo of the aquarium was eclipsed by Shepard's shadow that towered over me. As someone who always gravitated towards darkness, I slipped under his shadow and treated the encounter like espionage.

The first rule was to always get to know your surroundings, every entry point and escape. It was instinctual for me to explore him like I would with foreign environments and objects, two elements that my entire existence practically revolved around. My innate curiosity pushed me to feel him unabashedly, not so much sexually, but in awestruck inquisitiveness towards a magnificent and tantalizing construction. The pale orange glow that radiated through the fissures across his right cheek was proof enough that a part of him was of artificial design. I still struggled to bury my fear of synthetics, but the synthetic part of Shepard elicited not an ounce of terror from me, at least not anymore. Instead, it was inviting and made me want to learn, not isolate; understand, not destroy. In turn, I felt the slimmest ray of hope that perhaps peace with the geth could one day be obtained, especially after I had come to trust Legion a bit more; that was thanks to Shepard as well.

I pressed my hands firmly against his torso. It was like a wall, sturdy and hard, rippling under my fingers like warm steel bars. My legs pushed against his inner thighs as my fingers clambered across his back. I loved the deep grooves of his scars that my imagination made tactile for my gloved fingers. His physique was powerful and pronounced, just like his resolve and feelings towards all that he fought for, all that he believed in and even…me.

His deep groan as he swept me off my feet made my heart twist in excitement. Shepard carried me to the couch and seated me on his lap, his eyes shining in the same way whenever he laid them on a hard-earned prize. He tilted his head to the side, silently asking me with a hesitant but starved look in his eyes if I would grant him the same permission to scope about.

"You had mentioned that there was some sort of program…?" Shepard drawled out, throwing me a hopeful suggestion.

I threw my hand over my face, needing another layer of barrier to hide how mortified I was.

"Tali? Sorry. Did I say something wrong?"

"No." How could I explain to him that I felt inadequate, that my suit stripped me and my people of one of the most basic elements that made us organic, the ability to feel in uninhibited capacity?

"You need to install the program. Is that it?"

I hated killing the mood. If he were not with a quarian, he would not have to worry about going a quarter of the way, half way, the whole way. As difficult as it was, I tried to remind myself that if he wanted someone else, he wouldn't be here with me. I nodded and wondered if either of us could really hold back if the momentum kept rolling. I trusted Shepard to do so more than myself.

"Um…yes. A-all right, let me download my Nerv-Stim program to my suit…so I can um…feel better, um…I mean, so um…my senses will be more receptive towards stimuli." If words were tangible, I would be digesting them right now, letting them burn and dissolve in acid. How awkward. "It'll take a bit of time…" I chose to not tell Shepard about the different versions of the program, and decided on the most basic pack to cut download time. I didn't want him sitting here waiting, rotting from boredom and maybe resorting to adult entertainment from the Extranet because I decided to go with the Pro version. I navigated my omni-tool, my fingers visibly shaking as I tampered with the controls to begin the download process. "There."

"So now we wait?"

"Now we wait," I confirmed. "If you are bored, you can always catch up on some work or maybe feed your fish, your hamster, or…umm…" I looked around the room, desperately trying to find something that could preoccupy his time.

"So Doctor Chakwas told me some interesting stuff on her way back to the ship. She was drunk out of her mind, so I'm gonna need you to clarify some things for me," Shepard cut me off, steering the conversation in a completely new direction, one that I knew he would not allow me to avoid.

Keelah! I hope the drunken doctor didn't spill everything we had discussed!

"She told me you two have been meeting quite a bit lately and are very close to finding something that would temporarily help boost your immunity. Is this true?"

"Well…you see…" I stammered, finding the right words to correct my previous story.

"Why did you lie to me when I asked you in Afterlife?"

Ah, damn it to Hell, so he already knows the truth.

I met his eyes and saw a smug grin. It was as if he was almost humored by the situation, toying with me in collecting my part of the account when he already had the complete story. He had me cornered. Lying now would only make me look stupid, but admitting the truth would make me vulnerable. I sighed and decided to go with the lesser of two evils. "All right! I was upset, okay?" I resigned and threw my hands in the air.

"Oh, so you _were _upset earlier. Why?"

My eyes narrowed. I was incredulous at the fact that he needed to ask such a thing when the answer was obvious. "What do you mean why? Because you were staring at Miranda's breasts and dancing with the other girls!"

Shepard whistled, his grin expanding and revealing his teeth. "Ohhh yeah! Miranda has definitely got it going ON upstairs.

"What!?" I bit back my scream, grimacing at the sound of my pitch.

"But you got it going on downstairs," he interjected quickly, playfully bringing up his palms and backing away in mock alarm.

I sighed and stared down at my breasts, and prayed that he was an "ass man."

Shepard smirked, apparently satisfied that I had played into his little taunt. "All right all right, I'm all yours now," he conceded, genuine and heartfelt this time with a toothy grin. It was an endearing sight, and it was hard for me to not smile back at his rare display of boyish charm, a fragment of childlike innocence that had not been extinguished in all that we had seen in our wars.

I had been intimidated by his reputation and attitude until recently. He was always serious, sometimes cold even, but the ice had been slowly chipping away, allowing frozen emotions to run like the flow of water.

As if on cue, my omni-tool emitted low beeps, signaling that the download was now complete.

"It's done?"

I nodded, swallowing one of many lumps that had formed an assembly line up my throat.

He rested his left hand on my shoulder, his fingers lightly tracing circles, experimentally. I recoiled at the touch, completely unprepared for how much more sensitive a simple contact could feel with heightened stimulation.

Shepard pulled back his hand and looked worried, his mouth moving wordlessly as his mind raced to find the appropriate words so he would not offend.

As brief as the contact was, I felt as if it had burned an imprint into my skin. My entire body trembled in exhilaration as I launched my fingers around his hands and brought them towards my bosom. My patience was wearing thin, and I did not want Shepard to have even a second to spare on second-guessing this, second-guessing us. My chest heaved heavily, pushing itself against Shepard's open palms that I practically slammed into my flesh, a hint that I hoped he understood to mean that I did not wish for him to be gentle. Much to my satisfaction, he cupped my breasts tightly, all ten digits kneading my flesh with a strong and an exceptionally arousing force.

Maybe he felt that the sensations wouldn't be stimulating enough unless he was rough. Whatever his reason was, I didn't care; I didn't want it any other way right now.

I bit my lip to stifle a moan that I was not yet ready for another to hear, my hands gripping onto his biceps and feeling his tendons stretch against his skin each them he increased pressure. The feeling was incredible, powerful enough to nearly render the layer of my suit undetectable. I could only imagine how it would feel to be receptive to the same touches at the same intensity when both of us were completely naked. I pressed my thighs together, squeezing against the pleasurable convulsions at my groin, a sensation—that up until now—I had only felt in the privacy of my own space. Bracing my back, Shepard pushed me against the couch before he ripped his muscle shirt over his head, a predatory gleam flashing through his hardened eyes as he slowly crawled over my body, caging me like a prey.

I exhaled slowly through my lips as if I were releasing the last ounce of breath left in my body, wondering what he was going to do to me next in order to get me to collapse into submission. I cursed my imagination, for I had never thought it could be so uninspiring. It was insulting comparing the Shepard in my fantasies to the real one before me.

I marveled at his well-sculpted physique long and hard, knowing that I wouldn't feel brave enough to do so one day without my mask. A fierce wave of heat licked at my skin when Shepard assessed me up and down, doing so very carefully and slowly, the fine muscles around his eyes constricting. "Damn Tali…you…are…hot," he finally said, affirming his approval. "Has anyone ever told you that?" he then whispered, lowering himself until his nose pressed against the glass of my mask.

I shook my head, my throat gradually growing parched. I felt as if were swallowing sand. At the angle he had lowered himself to, I was able to get a much better look at his abdomen—stunning and mesmerizing, the way his scars intersected each other, bearing a striking resemblance to one of my favorite research interests. "And you," I answered back softly, entranced as I traced his scars with my finger, "are so beautiful. Has anyone ever told you that your wounds look like particle decay trails of the galaxy's frame-dragging effect?"

"Uh, w-what?" Shepard squinted at me, the lost expression on his face clearly telling me he had no idea what I was talking about.

I laughed at his confusion, finding it adorable. Seconds later, he was laughing with me, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of our flirting. "All right," he muttered, causing tingles to shoot up my spine, "allow me to revise my original compliment, Ms. vas Normany. You're so hot, I might precombust in your cylinder."

I gasped way too loudly for my own liking and could only picture how red my face was since my cheeks felt as hot as steam. No one had ever complimented me like that, and I didn't think anyone ever would. "U-um…w-wow…I…I…just…wow."

"You are adorable." His tone was tender and affectionate, his compliment honest and sincere, and he looked like he was in complete awe; why? I had no clue. I didn't think I had said anything exceptional that would elicit such a reaction. But I certainly was not going to complain. I loved the way his features softened, not a single trace of tension visible. It wasn't an expression I saw often at all, which made me cherish the image even more.

The longer I stared at him, the more I felt my own tension ebb. Knowing that he was unable to see my expression, I smiled ruefully at the absurdity of the situation. He was deeply attracted to a woman whose face he had never seen. What if he didn't like my face?

"Are you certain? You've never even see me without my mask…" I forced a chuckle, diffusing the somber mood with humor even though I was painfully aware that my insecurity was bleeding through the fractures that had just begun to heal tonight.

"Doesn't matter," he whispered. His deep breaths misted against the glass, right above my mouth. I was shaking with a compelling urge to pull my mask off. But doing so would be stupid and dangerous, especially since I was already coming very close to finding something that would temporarily permit me to be fully exposed in this atmosphere.

He leaned in even closer and pressed his nose against my mask, his hands gingerly cupping the sides. I was pleasantly surprised that I was able to relax under his gaze. Unlike most people who stared rudely and invasively through my mask, attempting to steal a peek at a quarian's face to satisfy their own curiosity or fuel their discrimination, Shepard's gaze was gentle; affectionate, meeting. "Pretty eyes…" he stated.

He gave a small peck on my glass, prompting the tip of my tongue to shoot out in an effort to taste what was on the other side of the glass, only for it to learn its limitation the hard way.

But before disappointment could set it, Shepard ran his hands down the curve of my waist, resting at the hips. "That ass must be critical data because I wanna back it up. You're into the cheesy stuff, aren't you?"

I blushed again, triggering a question that seemed rather appropriate about now. It was a question that I was burning to know. "Are you an ass man?" I blurted out, the words sounding a thousand times more awkward out loud.

"What?"

"Are you…an ass man?" I reiterated, slower this time. When he did not respond, I froze, suddenly wracked with nervousness. "Uh…ah..ha..am I saying it incorrectly? I uh…heard that term in a human mating video. The narrator and um…demonstrator of the video goes by the name, Aurora Lexi."

His face animated sharply the moment I mentioned Aurora.

"_You_ watch Aurora Lexi too—" Shepard swiftly cleared his throat, the sound loud, hollow, and forced. "Uh, what was your question again? Am I an ass man?"

I nodded, lacing my fingers together and feigning patience as I waited for his response. My heart was shooting at the speed of FTL travel.

He laughed-cried, then harder and thunderous, until finally his laughter ricocheted off the walls, so completely erupting with life that it felt like there was a third entity in the room. I really had no idea what was so funny, but my delight swelled nonetheless seeing Shepard loosening up. I rested my elbow on his shoulder and propped the side of my head against my hand, watching and waiting and smiling, at the same time savoring the warmth his mirth injected into my core.

"Say it again for me?" he requested. He pressed his lips together, barely containing his amusement.

"Say what?"

His shoulders trembled. "Human mating video. Narrator. Demonstrator."

"Human mating video. Narrator. Demonstrator."

Hilarity spilled into the air once more. His head rolled against my arm. I reached out with slight hesitance to stroke his hair, like I had seen done with other human couples, and it felt nice. His hair was smooth, soft, novel. So this is what human hair feels like.I smiled to myself when I saw Shepard relaxing into the massage; I had to be doing something right.

"Okay, I'm done," he said in between labored breaths. "And the answer to your question is yes. I'm an ass man."

"Haha, yes!" I jumped up, so excitedly that I ended up hitting him in the face with my arm. I could not control the smile that split my face.

He shot me a strange look, but simply shrugged in the end, apparently happy for my mood even though he had no idea what he had said to incite it. "Come here," he commanded, guiding me to sit up sideways on his lap again, his palms slowly rubbing my rear.

As large as his hands were, they were far from containing the flesh of my behind. "Shake it, girl," he teased, rotating my hips to the left and right before giving me a light spank that nearly caused me to leap off his lap. It was only when I realized what he had just done that I started to crave the attention and the playful assault. The heat from his touch flared through my suit, the warmth purer than the cosmos's element.

Squeezing an eye shut, nervous and a little self-conscious, I swayed experimentally, paying close attention to my shadow that played off the wall to gauge how I moved. Recognizing that I was mostly stiff, especially my legs, I stood on my toes and then bent over my straight knees, elevating my rear till it was nearly aligned at the level of his face.

I heard Shepard moan softly behind me. It was funny how that one sound was able to cause my confidence to skyrocket. Moments later, I felt his face against my bottom, his mouth leaving a trail of ravenous kisses on my left buttock as his right hand delivered spanks, some light, and the majority rough—how I liked it.

I swayed a little more fiercely, all the while maintaining perfect balance on my toes. It wasn't overly difficult to do so, but was still taxing nonetheless. He seemed to know when I was starting to tire out—perhaps from the way my calves were inclining forward— and pulled me back onto his lap, cradling me, his lips descending from the side of my neck to my collarbone, stopping at the top of my breasts to plant kisses at the closest approximation to my nipples; he wasn't too far off at all, and my chest imploded with sharp tingles. I held on to Shepard tightly to prevent myself from collapsing into a boneless heap, all the while trying to keep my desperateness subtle.

"You should like your breasts too, because I do."

His comment caught me off guard. I cringed when I thought back to how I overreacted to his 'ass man' admission.

"But I'm still more of an ass man," he whispered, his arms snaking around my waist. "You are so sexy, and you thought you didn't know how to move. I always knew you were nimble, but now I can think of so many ways how we can apply your flexibility, but when you're ready of course."

U-um wow, did he just call me sexy? I didn't think I would ever hear that word describe me. Miranda was sexy, Liara, Samara, Jack, Kelly…Hell, even EDI's voice was considered sexy, but…me? I was perhaps cute at best, and that was mostly due to my personality, from what I had overheard from others. Naturally I had no idea how to respond to a compliment like that. "I got some ideas from Garrus actually…have you heard his 'reach and flexibility' anecdote?"

And of course I had to say something totally stupid and irrelevant.

But then I saw his eyes flash with unmistakable suspicion, and I couldn't hide my wicked smile. Maybe it wasn't such a stupid thing to say after all. Now it was my turn to have a little fun. I said in my sweetest tone, "That Garrus…who would have thought…Mmm…no, nothing."

The hold around my waist tightened. "Oh? You two seem to be getting along better."

"Much better."

His brow arched so high that I didn't think it was impossible for it to reach his hairline. "So what's this 'reach and flexibility' all about? Turian anatomy or something?"

"Just…anatomy in general."

"Well, why not ask Doctor Chakwas if you have any questions? She _is _a doctor."

"Well, I was more interested in male anatomy."

"Mordin," he ejected his response like a bullet.

I tilted my head from side to side, pretending to consider that thought. In the end, I bit my lower lip to suppress a giggle. "Yeah, but Mordin always seems like he wants to work or be alone. Garrus on the other hand, is fun to chat with, and plus he asked me to check out some components for him in the Main Battery. So, we get to talk and work at the same time. I taught him a few engineering tricks, and in turn, he told me his reach and flexibility tale. He's a quick learner, _very _hands-on." I wiggled my fingers in front of his face, making sure to emphasize the 'hands-on' part.

Shepard's frown was only evident for a few seconds until he pressed closer against me, the light from the aquarium illuminating a mischievous glint in his steely eyes. "And what about you, Miss vas Normandy?" he asked in a low voice, calm yet seductive.

"W-what about me?" I challenged, focusing more on keeping my tone leveled than where the conversation was going. My heart already knew anyway, and it was slamming against my chest like war beats.

"Are you a quick, _hands-on_learner as well? Because I have a few things to teach."

"But Garr-"

"Fuc—…forget Garrus. You're gonna learn from _me_," he punctuated with an impatient finality.

"Oh? What do y-you have in m-mind?" I challenged back with crumbling confidence.

Before I could even question what I was in for, he tenderly slid his hand between my inner thighs, applying only a small ounce of pressure in attempting to pry them apart; he was waiting for me to meet him halfway, concede and be okay with what was going to move on from here.

"Not all the way," he reassured me again softly, his fingers twitching hesitantly across the fabric of my ceremonious garb. I was touched to see that he was nervous too.

I nodded, but he looked at me with eyes that reflected uncertainty, not knowing if my gesture was simply an acknowledgement or a confirmation that we were on the same page, wanted the same thing. I sensed that he was wondering whether our flirtatious banter and physical exploration were treading on sacred ground, razing the landscape of the quarian teachings and customs and manipulating them how we saw fit, how we wanted them to be. _Is that all right? Are…YOU…all right with it…?_ continued his eyes, brilliant and blazing in the darkness like a lightning storm, charging the air around us.

It was always his eyes that drew me in first, like the inviting embrace of shelter from chaos. I relaxed under his comforting gaze, felt safe. And then, an invisible force kept my fingers steady as I loosened my belt and hiked up the fabric of my garment, permitting passage to where I had wanted his touch to be ever since the day he assaulted my dirty fantasies and dreams. The muscles in his arm eased as his hand traveled up my thighs, leaving sharp prickles to haunt the trail with the aid of the Nerv-Stim program that stirred my dormant receptors. There were more powerful versions of the program, but the intensity of the sensation did not matter as much as from whom the sensation came. His fingers pressed against my groin and my thighs reflexively clenched together in an effort to seal the warm and pleasurable ripples. I wanted to imprison the hand that had electrified my most sensitive nerves.

I had never given easily in to temptation, and I didn't think I ever would, but I couldn't stop thinking about Shepard's touch, how it was just a small tease and sampling of greater sexual fulfillment he could bring to the table. I desperately wanted a few moments of reprieve to consider what I wanted to do next, really think it through, but I couldn't disengage from him, couldn't find the will to push his hand away, the fingers that ignited the sweltering heat between my legs.

I reached into my side pouch and pulled out a syringe. Before Shepard could ask me what it was, I held it up to his face and explained, "Small dosage of temporary immune-booster, for when I need to…um…attend to hygiene purposes. Unfortunately it's only potent enough to boost immunity for that specific area."

I was glad that he did not reply, simply waited for me to show him. My hand shook a little as it replaced his at the junction between my legs, where I released a seal. The curved layer that concealed the most intimate part of my body peeled away. I concentrated on stilling my fingers as the needle depressed into an exposed area of my inner thigh, allowing the liquid to deplete before I set the used syringe on the table and waited for that familiar coldness to prick at the injection point. It was how I knew the immune-booster was settling.

"Tali…I had no idea. Are you sure you will be all right?"

I nodded, feeling somewhat shy to say anything more. I wasn't good with words, always preferring demonstrating to speaking. In my experience, it helped moved things along quicker and smoother.

When I looked at him, I was mildly surprised to see that he had dutifully turned away, though I could tell from the way his eyes were darting that he was trying very hard uphold the respect he offered. His ears were a little red now, how sweet. The butterflies returned. "It's okay if you wish to see to see how it's done. I…trust you, and I feel really comfortable with you."

"Tali…"

"Um…ready," I stated, not knowing how else to signal him.

He turned to me slowly. I could tell he was trying to furtively expel his breath, perhaps a sigh of relief even.

"Don't worry," I tried to set him at ease. "I did my research—humans and quarians, we have _very _similar anatomy. Except well, as you can see, our genitals are glabrous, but besides that I assure you that we all have—"

He pressed his face against my mask, and it took amazing willpower on my end to not rip itoff so I could taste the passion of his kiss. He lowered my body once again to the plush cushion and held me in the embrace of one arm, knowing exactly how to silence me when I didn't know how to do so myself. His other hand trailed down the valley of my breasts, descended my stomach, and found its place nestled between my legs again. I felt like I had been jolted by a thousand electric pricks the moment his fingers made contact with the folds, now liberated and vulnerable to the full extent of either pain or pleasure. His fingers moved slowly but with a certain precision that allowed me to deduce that I was in experienced hands, literally too.

I could hear my fluids saturating his fingers, and though I was growing hot with my embarrassment, Shepard did not appear to mind it at all. In fact, it spurred his digits to pump faster, deeper. A small puddle was beginning to pool on the leather cushion, and I felt a familiar pleasurable sensation emerging, but the more the sensation began to mount, I realized that it was much stronger and arousing than what my Bob provided.

"You're so much better than Bob…"

The words sounded and felt like a distant dream. I wouldn't have even known that I had projected my thought out loud if it weren't for the uneasiness reflected in Shepard's eyes, the question he wanted to ask obvious. My movements seized up and so did his.

"Battery-Operated-Buddy. Built by me, completely customized to my um, my liking…"

His tension burst like a bubble, laughter bright, and I reflexively grinned, acknowledging that I could never get tired of hearing him laugh. It was therapeutic almost, and it made me feel good knowing that I out of all people somehow had the ability to help him crack a smile here and there.

"Go on," he teased, his attention held. "How _do_ you like it?"

Swallowing my nervousness did not come as a struggle this time. My muscles loosened at the same time I felt Shepard relaxing too, the look in his gaze now playful and intensely intrigued. I had heard that line before, from one of Aurora's videos. It was clearly rehearsed in her film and my recollection of the scene was so strong that I was prompted to supply an equally rehearsed response, pulled straight from the script itself. "Give it to me rough."

Did I mention I have a nasty habit of blurting stupid things out at the most inappropriate time? Except this time it appears that what I said fit right into the context of the moment, of the mood. I didn't bother to find a substitute response, because I didn't think I could find one that was more honest. And plus, I was really enjoying the sight of Shepard's bewildered expression, his mouth widening after soundlessly muttering the first syllable of my name.

His recovery was swift and subtle, shock melting into confidence that swelled with his next statement, "You need to talk dirty more often." He punctuated the force of each word by plunging his fingers further up every time, at last settling against the rough grooves that produced the most pleasure, spiking in strength as his digits flexed and fired away back and forth, completely trigger happy.

Keelah! I wanted him to keep going, but found I had no strength to translate this thought into coherent words for him. I had no idea how long I had been crying out like a wounded creature, or when I had even begun, but it was a much welcomed and needed source of some type of release as the violent maelstrom of pulses whirled inside me and its residual force whipping against my clitoris, hell-bent on pushing me over the edge. I could hear and see my "juices," as the humans had referred to, splash against Shepard's forearm and drip down to his wrist, the droplets glistening under the aquarium's soft light. I couldn't remember a time when there was this much secretion and was hit with a nervous pang amidst the frazzled ecstasy, wondering how Shepard felt towards the liquid that seemed to jet out greater in amount and farther with each rough hook of his fingers.

I abruptly jolted and latched my fingers around his wet wrist, the pleasure suddenly becoming overwhelming and pounding away fervently, creating a fever that took over my body. I tried to push his hand away by impulse, a little fearful of where this intensity—one I had never experienced at this depth—was going to take me. Shepard fought away my hand effortlessly, the grin on his face a little sadistic and mischievous, as if he held some sort of knowledge that I was lacking, though not for long. His thumb fell over my clitoris and made callous rotations over the hardened nub simultaneously with the intrusions of his middle and index fingers that pumped with increasing vigor, racing as fast as my rattling heart.

Keelah, have mercy on me!

He embraced my convulsions as a hoarse scream tore through my lungs, drowning out the frantic beeps from my suit. My fingers clawed against his chest, nearly piercing into his skin.

"God, I love making you scream" he whispered as he held me tighter, his erection brushing against my thigh.

I was trembling so hard, from both pleasure and emotions. My breath misted against the pane of my mask with each heavy pant as a trail of saliva dripped from the corner of my mouth. I could no longer see his beautiful face. He gently rubbed his hand up and down my arm, his fingers sticky and soaked. I wanted to tell him how amazing that had felt, how amazing he was, but no words formed on my lips. Only weak groans and the softening beeps hung in the air as my body slowly recovered from the overload. His fingers found their way between my legs again and smoothly glided across the drenched passageway. My thighs quivered with every stroke. I knew I wasn't going to last a second time. I weakly broke through my dizziness and resealed the flap, my internal filters already vacuuming the liquid.

The final ounces of energy left in me were used to shut down the Nerv-Stim program. The beeping from my suit ceased too, and the atmosphere once again dissolved into a comforting silence.

Shepard picked me up and carried me over to his bed. Exhaustion suddenly swept over me when he set me down, and he knew. He began to walk towards the couch, but I grabbed his wrist. "Stay with me, here, please…" I told him breathlessly and pointed to the space next to me on his bed.

He complied and wrapped his arms around me once more. "You're not getting off the hook so easily next time. That's an order."

The fog in my mask cleared, and I could see that he was quite serious about his promise. I shifted closer to him and draped an arm across his stomach. The dizzy heat returned briefly as I thought about our next meeting. I needed to prepare. "I need to step up on my research then."

"Human mating video?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Of course, what else?"

He laughed again and then flicked the switch by his bed. The room plunged into darkness, and my fatigue grew heavier as I listened not to the Normandy's engine today, but to Shepard's breathing.

I was going to sleep _very _well.

* * *

A/N: Thank you all for reading. I know it's been a long time since I posted the first chapter, so I thank you for being patient with me. You either hated or loved this story…but I wanted to explore a more carefree and fun side to Shepard and Tali's relationship, with a dash of smut. I also had fun exploring alternate ways that Tali could have been more intimate with Shepard prior to the love scene.


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